Fidelius
by Harmonykat
Summary: The night of October 31, 1981.


**Disclaimer: This is mine. ALL MINE! BWAHAHAHAHAHA! **

**I wish. This all belongs to JKR, including some of the dialogue.**

**A/N: Many thanks to The Editor for, well, editing this for me, as well as helping me come up with a title. **

**Also, this is a strangely fitting thing for me to be posting, as my grandfather died this morning, although I wrote this last night. **

Fidelius

_By Katharine A. Sintonia_

James gazed out the window of the dusty old house, looking up at the sky. The thin crescent moon scarcely illuminated the quaint street around them. The muggle children had long since gone home, but James grinned at the memory of the trick-or-treaters. He, Lily, and Harry had all watched from the windows over the course of the night, laughing at the various costumes. He shook his head as he remembered them walk past without ever glancing toward the house. _Thank Merlin for Filius_, he thought with a half-smile. As much as he hated being trapped in a house day in and day out, he knew it was the only way they'd survive the war.

_Damn this war_. He leaned his head against the glass. How many times had he and Lily been forced to move at a minute's notice since they'd married three years before? He could hear her singing quietly to Harry upstairs, and he couldn't help but smile. _At least he's had us,_ he thought with a grin. He ran a hand through his hair, unable to think of Harry without the uncomfortable fears associated. He could still remember that conversation with Dumbledore like it was yesterday, though it had been well over a year before.

_In late May Dumbledore apparated outside their house unexpectedly. Lily had ushered him in hurriedly, one hand on her swollen stomach. "Come in, Albus," she said worriedly._

_He walked quickly into the kitchen, conjuring a bottle of brandy and two glasses. "Where's James? I need to speak with the two of you."_

"_Jamie!" Lily called toward the sitting room. "Albus is here!"_

_He dashed into the room, an owner's manual for a television still clutched in one hand and his wand in the other. "Sorry, Professor," he said with a grin. "We've been trying to programme the telly so the muggles don't suspect us."_

"_Sit, please," the much older man said quickly, his piercing blue eyes obviously concerned. "I have potentially grave news for you." He poured the brandy and downed a glass. He looked back at the two of them. "I've just been meeting with Hogwarts' new Divination professor."_

_Lily groaned. "Oh, Albus, you're not continuing that barmy subject? It's so bloody useless." James couldn't help but agree with her._

_Albus nodded. "Under most circumstances I would be against the continuation, however…" He spread his hands as though to say he had no choice then spoke again. "Upon examination she failed to impress me, demonstrating only the meanest ability to predict the future. I started to leave, but as I walked to the door, she was overcome with the Inner Eye." He poured himself another glass of brandy, though James had yet to touch his. Lily looked at him jealously. Albus studied them carefully, his gaze darting between the two of them. "Your son is due in late July, am I correct?"_

_Lily nodded, going white. A hand unconsciously went to her stomach. "What about Harry?"_

"_It may not concern him," Dumbledore said gently. "The Longbottoms are also expecting their son in July."_

"_And so are any number of other wizarding families!" exclaimed James with frustration. "What does this have to do with us or the Longbottoms?"_

_Dumbledore held up a hand. "My apologies. I will explain properly. The seer said, '__The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'" Dumbledore recited the words as though he did not want to linger on them._

_James stood, his face white. "What does that—"_

_Dumbledore cut him off with a hand. "It obviously points to either your son or the Longbottoms. I can think of no other couple in England that has survived Voldemort three times, and Alice is also expecting a son in late July. My hope is that your son or the Longbottoms will be the key to finally defeating Voldemort, but as I have said," he said with a small grimace, "divination is a very imprecise form of magic. I wish I could tell you what this prophecy means in whole, but I cannot._

"_But there's more. One of Voldemort's known agents overheard part of the prediction. I do not believe he heard the end of it, though how much he does know is uncertain. We do know that Voldemort will mark either your son or the Longbottom's as his equal somehow. I do not know what Voldemort will do, though we await the births of your children. The Order will protect you and your son as best we may from any danger," he said solemnly. "If Frank and Alice's son is the Chosen One, then we will all strive to protect him. But I can't imagine two stronger families to be born into you. Best of luck. Lily, James." With a nod to each of them, he disapparated, leaving Lily and James staring at each other._

He turned away from the window, running his hand along the old Victorian furniture. Ever since that day they'd been running, finding hiding places, each seeming more impregnable than the last and not withstanding to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He and Lily had fled countless houses literally minutes before they were found. They'd returned later to find piles of rubble. He shuddered, remembering the succession of close calls.

But more terrifying than the ruined houses were the rumours that were coming back to them from within the Order. Whispers of a spy in their midst had caused a huge rift of constant distrust, and James had to admit that it seemed likely. How else could Voldemort track them so seamlessly from location to location?

_But who?_ James mentally ran through the Order in his mind, checking off every single name as being unable to be _his_ spy. Every member had bled for the cause and been ready to lay down their lives in defence of it.

James let a grin creep onto his face. None of his friends would ever betray him, he was certain of that. They were hidden behind two foolproof lines of defence. Sirius was the only one who knew that Peter was their Secret Keeper. And Peter…James fondly remembered Peter's then irritating devotion to him. _Good ol' Peter,_ he thought. _Maybe this time we'll be able to stay here._

He left the room, walking back into the kitchen were Lily sat, bent over a cookbook. James grinned and snuck up behind her, trying to be silent.

When he was a few feet away, Lily sighed. "Jamie, how many more times are you going to do this?"

He stood up straight, running one hand through his raven locks. "Until I finally catch you off guard."

At that she turned around, one eyebrow raised. Her bright green eyes glittered with amusement. "_You'll_ take _me_ off guard?" She snickered a bit. "Come off it, love. How many times _did_ I dump you on your arse in Auror training?" She grinned, tossing her fiery hair over her shoulder.

He mock-glared at her. "I'll thank you to take that back, Mrs. Potter!"

She smiled angelically, stepping into his arms. He embraced her, raising an eyebrow. She took his arm, her green eyes wide. "Oh, Jamie…"

Before he knew what had happened, he was lying on his back on the floor, and Lily was straddling him triumphantly. "As I said: _you'll _take _me_ off guard?"

He seized her hips and rolled her over onto her back. His hazel eyes were narrow as his hands lingered over her body. "Indeed."

She raised an eyebrow. "Here in the kitchen?"

He put a finger over her lips. "Harry's asleep."

The sound of a squalling infant ruined James' notion, and Lily effortlessly shrugged him off her. "I'm going to go check on Harry, you dirty, dirty bastard." She rolled her eyes at him then walked off toward the stairs.

James got to his feet and walked back into the sitting room, glancing out the window.

His blood froze. A dark figure was walking purposefully toward the house that should have been invisible to almost everyone but Peter, and the figure was too tall and thin. "Merlin," James whispered, frozen for a moment. "Peter…" The gate swung open, and James bolted for the stairs in desperation. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off—" He ran, hoping, praying that they could somehow keep Harry alive.

The door burst open and Voldemort's shrill laughter filled the room. "Crucio!" he shrieked.

James ducked, spun, and slashed his wand through the air, focusing hard. A stream of purple flames shot toward Voldemort.

He waved the flames aside with an almost lazy gesture. He glared at the dumbstruck man and viciously hissed, "Avada Kedavra!"

A single jet of green light coursed from the wand, and James fell to the ground, his handsome face locked in an expression of defiance and fear.

Lily tore over to the nursery, threw open the door, and sprinted to the cradle when she heard the chilling voice that haunted her dreams.

"Give me the boy." Voldemort stood behind her, his red slits of eyes gleaming as he grinned viciously. "Lord Voldemort shall grant you mercy if you give me the brat!"

"No, no, no," she stammered, putting herself between Voldemort and Harry. "Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything—"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

"_No! Never! Not Harry!"_ she screamed, clutching the cradle as Harry screamed, his tiny hand brushing hers as he reached for her.

Voldemort's eyes flared. "As you wish, Mudblood." He almost casually levelled his wand at her throat and said, "Avada Kedavra."

She fell in a jet of green light, landing heavily on the floor, but Voldemort stepped heedlessly over her body to look at the tiny baby boy before him. The tiny boy's green eyes were wide and moist as he locked eyes with the darkest wizard ever to walk the earth.

Harry gave an almighty wail and Voldemort narrowed his red eyes. A triumphant grin stretched unnaturally across his face as he yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"


End file.
